As a grandmother, educator, and mother, I have a love-hate relationship with technology. When the face of my lovely daughter, serving in the U.S. Air Force in Japan, pops up on FaceTime, I couldn’t be more grateful. And I will forever sing the praises of Khan Academy, which probably saved my brilliant son’s trigonometry grade many moons ago.
There’s certainly much to appreciate. But there are also areas of grave concern.
I can’t be sure how my now 16-year-old grandson Brian, up in Kalispell, first fell under the spell of the internet. Most likely it was a combination of too much free time in pandemic-era lockdowns and then, soon after, spending time with older boys at the skatepark.
By the time his parents gifted him an iPhone at 15, Brian may have been addicted to the internet, specifically social media and porn. His parents soon took his phone away, viewing his over-use as a problem. But this didn’t change his behavior, so again they took it away. And again.
Brian, who has Type 1 diabetes, grew angry and stopped listening to his parents. At night, we later learned, he started sneaking downstairs to retrieve his phone, slipping out a bathroom window and hanging out with the wrong crowd, smoking marijuana and vaping until the wee hours. For me, seeing this behavior from the same boy who just a few years before would add bunny ears to his Nana’s face during video calls, was not easy.
Rather than face the consequences of his screen choices, Brian decided to move in with his biological father, Paul. Setting no limit on his tech use, Paul bought him the latest iPhone and let him hang out with a trouble-making skater crowd. Shortly before finals, Brian was suspended from school for repeatedly punching a classmate. His GPA has fallen to 1.8 and his parents and I are at our wit’s end.
We’re far from alone. The troubling impact of teen tech use has emerged as a national emergency. New York University psychology professor Jonathan Haidt’s book The Anxious Generation, highlighting how teens’ 6-8 hours of daily screen time has coincided with spikes in anxiety, depression, eating disorders, self-harm and feelings of isolation, shot to the top of bestseller lists upon its early 2024 release. Bill Gates described it as “scary but convincing.”
Many experts have expressed similar concerns. “The mental health crisis among young people is an emergency and social media has emerged as an important contributor,” then-Surgeon General Vivek Murthy argued in The New York Times in June 2024, calling for a warning label on social media platforms and restrictions on data collection, push notifications, and infinite scroll. Studies have found that teens who spend more than three hours a day on social media (which is nearly all of them) are twice as likely to struggle with anxiety and symptoms of depression. Also, nearly half of adolescents say social media makes them feel worse about their bodies.
Last month, Lewis & Clark County voters rejected a $2 million tech levy to purchase and repair computers and IT in elementary schools. Two weeks ago, Montana City voters rejected a significant increase to the school’s technology fund. I understand the desire to keep taxes low and the knee-jerk view that the last thing today’s students need is more tech.
But kids and tech are only partly to blame – the rest of it falls on us. At the risk of sounding cliche, it takes a village. We’re all responsible for curbing teen tech use. “Devices open up a whole world parents often aren’t aware of,” State Senator Becky Beard recently told The Monitor. “It used to be bad enough when we said the TV was the babysitter. But now parents are on their devices while their children are on their devices and family connectivity is eroding. And in schools we have our eyes on too many different priorities.”
In many Montana kindergartens, children as young as four are learning on tablets. The Jumpstart Pre-K Readiness Program relies on tablets, while the Digital Jumpstart program focuses on improving digital literacy with computers. This may not be the best approach. We need to improve monitoring of these programs to make sure they’re making a positive impact.
Tech certainly can be a valuable educational tool, an amplifier for learning. Teaching at Helena’s ExplorationWorks a few years ago, I had my engineering students use a Lego app on their tablets. Everybody agreed that it enhanced their engagement and creativity. And in February, Helena teens Makena Pedersen and Aurora Obie won a Code Girls United competition with their app “Stay Fetch,” which helps users find and adopt well-suited pets.
On the internet students have access to vast knowledge and insights, which can spur critical thinking and creativity. Teachers can infuse learning with rich material from around the world, not to mention reams of real-time data and information. Online platforms enable students to collaborate with classmates and peers from across the globe, breaking down barriers of culture and language.
But the risks are real. Some studies suggest tablets are failing to deliver the expected academic results, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.Unlimited screen time can lead to online addictions – to pornography, gambling, gaming, or even shopping. Apps like WhatsApp, TikTok, YouTube, and Telegram pose a major distraction in this age of limited attention spans. Writing in the emoji-slang shorthand that’s common in text and chat can erode students’ English skills and writing ability.
Unless students are taught how to assess and evaluate content, they might struggle to separate opinion from fact in their academic work. Further risks include cyberbullying and increased screen time undermining sleep. And I recently read about “AI friends” that are able to access a child’s psyche, building a potentially dangerous non-human connection.
But if the answer is not banning tech for teens – and I don’t think it is, though the Texas Senate is currently mulling a social media ban for minors – then what is it? The solution lies in everybody doing their part to ensure 21st-century tech helps, rather than hurts, today’s students.
In his book, Haidt recommends four reasonable steps to curb teen tech troubles:
-
No smartphones before high school
-
No social media before 16 (Having taught countless kids with short attention spans and emotional disorders, I’d wait longer, until perhaps 18)
-
Phone-free schools (Thankfully, many schools are moving in this direction)
-
More independence and free play (We’re in Montana – get those kids outside!)
In line with these moves, public health leaders should work to build healthy digital environments. Dr. Murthy calls for legislation that shields teens from online harassment, abuse, and exposure to extreme violence and sexual content. These are useful steps that will be all the more crucial as schools, like those in Miami-Dade County, begin to embrace AI tools.
But perhaps most importantly, families and communities should work together to establish local guidelines. “Parents need to start paying more attention to how much time children are on their devices,” advised Senator Beard. Maybe if more parents were collecting their kids’ phones at night, fewer kids would be sneaking out and getting into trouble. It takes a brave parent, like my daughter, to knock on the door of the parent of their child’s friend to discuss what their kids have been up to. But it shouldn’t. It should be commonplace.
Parents should communicate openly and work with their children to develop and agree on a plan. Kids should be encouraged to come up with their own solutions. Maybe they get to use their smartphones in the morning, and after school, but not during or after dinner. Maybe their phone use is linked to their grades. Whatever families decide, teens feel empowered when they play a role in determining their tech use.
Some years ago I served on a Parent Advisory Council and found it to be the perfect place for parents to express themselves and discuss complex issues. I recommend getting involved and reaching out to other parents in your community to develop viable solutions. It’s no exaggeration to say that the future of our communities could depend on it.
Helena-based Karen Porteous is a retired educator who taught in Montana schools for 25 years, including multiple computer science courses.
